


Dragon Age: Singquisition

by Evutal



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Satire, community ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:24:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15579882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evutal/pseuds/Evutal
Summary: A satirical retelling of DA:I as experienced during a life-stream playthrough.





	Dragon Age: Singquisition

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dragon Age: Inquisition - A Perfectly Normal Playthrough (DAI #1)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/403497) by CDX+ (Ghil Dirthalen, The Exalted March), livechat during the stream, creators of the used mods. 



> Basically a retelling of in-jokes, this is just my personal take on ideas and themes which were a collective creation of the chat during a CDX+ stream by The Exalted March and Ghil Dirthalen. Love you all, stay crazy.
> 
> Any harm done to the English language was unintentional and not born out of disrespect but caused by the fact that it's just not my first language.

# Dragon Age: Singquisition

 

 

"It scratches at my thoughts, the music almost a voice, at once unearthly and beautiful."  
    -Warden Marjorie Berran

“The Titan wants me to know. No, more than that. It wants me to understand. There is a loneliness to its song.”  
    -Shaper Valta 

“Each day she sang to the gods, asking them to help her people who remained slaves in Tevinter. The false gods of the mountains and the winds did not answer her, but the true god did.”  
   -Justinia II

* * *

 

## Prologue

The entire surface of the orb was covered with curving, intertwined ridges. Despite its metallic material the Magister got the distinct impression of holding something grown rather than made. Something _alive_.  
“ Then you are claiming this artefact will grant me passage into The City once more?” he asked. Before him, his expression inscrutable, stood an elf who looked like he had spent the last 3940 years sleeping in a tanning bed.  
“Certainly. As I am sure someone of your extraordinary abilities can sense, there is ancient magic within the orb. According to my studies, it should hold enough energy to open the Veil. After performing the ritual, you will be gifted with the voice that controls the very fabric of this world and your songs will command power worthy of a god.”  
“And thus,” the monstrous figure spoke over him, “I will claim the empty throne at last: Mine will be the power and the world shall kneel before the King of Rock that is Corypheus!”  
The key to his ultimate desires in hand, he threw back his head and broke out in a triumphant, mad laughter. The humble elf, who vanished back into the shadows, was already beyond his notice.

## First Song - Good Bone Structure, Bad Judgement

Tamar stirred on the cold, wet stone floor. Every inch of her body was agony. And being a Qunari, that was a lot of inches. Before even wondering where she was, Tamar attempted to reach up between her prominent horns to check her hair, only to realize that she couldn't. Both her hands were shackled in a heavy, iron plank. Shackles. An old fury flared up inside her and with it, a sharp pain in the palm of her left hand. Green light sparked and flickered from it with a brightness that blinded her and a surge of pain so intense she couldn't help but gasp for air. As the pain slowly subsided, she noticed the sound of footsteps coming closer. She raised her head to see two women entering her dank cell, one clad in heavy armour, the other wearing some kind of hood. She followed their movements closely. Tamar had accentuated her eyes in the same green colour her lips had become ever since she'd contracted Ataashi-Herpes, and now they narrowed menacingly at the sight of her captors. At the humans who have actually had the gall to put her into chains again.  
“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now,” barked the first one, the roughness in her voice betraying her fair complexion and hair. Plates of armour clanked as she continued to circle her captive. “The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”  
Tamar quickly pieced it together. “You think I did this?” she said, in a tone of disbelief.  
The armoured lady grabbed her glowing hand. “Explain this!”, she growled.  
“I can't!” Tamar protested.  
Just as the woman started to get rough, the second one nimbly intervened, pushing her away. “We need her, Cassandra.”  
Tamar finally got a good look at her and couldn't help but feel impressed by her strong make-up game: A solid black bar at the level of eyes and brows which then smoothly faded further down. This one clearly had style and would be more reasonable than her colleague, so she tried addressing her instead. “Whatever you think I did, I'm innocent.”  
“Do you even remember what happened? How this began?”  
Tamar frowned, trying to remember, but only pieces came to mind. “I remember running,” she tried to explain, “things were chasing me and then... a woman.”  
The eyes of the hooded woman widened. “A woman?”  
But the one she had called Cassandra cut her short: “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” A small nod of understanding between the two, then only the warrior was left.  
As she removed the shackles, Tamar asked her: “What did happen?” But all she got was a sinister look. “It will be easier to show you.”

She was led out into the cold mountain air, finally free again under the bright – sky? But the sky as she remembered it wasn't there any more. Far above the peaks of the Frostbacks a menacing, whirling vortex was tearing it apart. In its centre shone the same ghostly-green light that had previously flared on her hand. And now Tamara recognized it, because as a mage, of course she had seen it before: She was looking _into the Fade_. “How is this possible? What caused this?”  
Cassandra gave her a push to get her walking. Then, as they passed a gawking crowd alongside the rode, began to explain: “We call it the Breach. It is all that is left after the explosion at the Conclave. Our CEO of Chantry Records Ltd., Divine Justinia, had called for a board meeting at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to broker peace between the Rebel Mages and the Templar Order. Their gang war has bloodied much of Thedas and thrown everything into chaos. But once they were all assembled, a gigantic explosion laid waste to the entire area. Now the Most Holy and nearly everyone in upper management is dead, along with any hope to restore peace. Demons are pouring through the Breach and smaller rifts into our world, killing everything they see. ”  
Tamar remembered dimly something about being sent to this Conclave, but her recollection was foggy at best. Her was head spinning from all the information. Which reminded her: Finally she reached up and was delighted to feel that her hair was still in perfect shape. Wherever that human was taking her, at least she looked fabulous. They were walking on a narrow path through the snow, when sudden, intense pain forced the proud Qunari to her knees. Tamar's left hand was sparking with magic again and above her the sky wobbled as the hole expanded even further.  
Cassandra crouched down next to her. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world. And each time it expands, so does the mark on your hand. And it is killing you. You may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time. If you wish to prove your innocence, this is your only way.”  
“Stopping this, by doing what?”  
“Closing the Breach. Whether that is possible,” Cassandra added, “is something we shall discover shortly.”  
Positively jumping back to her feet, Tamar said: “So I will die if we don't stop this? Why bother with all these nonsense accusations instead of leading with the important stuff? Let's go!”

They forged onwards through the snow, occasionally fighting off stray shades and wraiths with the combined force of Cassandra's sword and Tamar's spellwork. It was obvious however, that the warrior didn't much concern herself with protecting the considerably more fragile mage from harm.  
“Your mark must be tested”, she explained while pulling her sword out of the gooey remains of a demon.  
“And how exactly are you planning to do this?”  
“There is a smaller rift nearby. You'll see it when we're there.”  
Eventually they crossed a frozen river and reached a small hill. The sound of a fight was echoing to them from the other side.  
“They need our help, quickly!” Cassandra bellowed and stormed off.  
Tamar ran after her. At the top, cold air burning in her throat with each heavy breath, she could see things were not looking good. Below, a handful of figures were in a desperate melee with too many demons and it was clear at one glance where their adversaries had come from: A twisting green anomaly unlike anything Tamar had ever seen, part crystal, part light, was spewing out yet another enemy directly from the Fade. She began to hurl lightning and fire at them. Again and again she cast her spells, striking her foes with the as much power as she could. It was a chaotic battle, humanoid figures she was careful not to hit by mistake and the slouching, death brining shades all around her, until, finally, there came a moment of calm. When it seemed they had a small pause before the demon onslaught would continue. Already the rift crackled ominously, surely new enemies would appear any moment now. If this doesn't end soon, Tamar thought, we might just die from exhaustion.  
“Now, quickly!” Tamar turned and saw a very tanned elf running towards her. Then he planted a teleprompter in front of her and yelled: “Sing, sing into your left hand!”  
To bewildered to even think to object, Tamara obeyed. Looking at the text scrolling before her, she began to sing. To her surprise, she found her beautiful voice amplified, loud and clear as through she were holding a microphone. What was going on here? Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a saxophone and Cassandra had drawn a bass guitar from her back. The elf meanwhile began playing on an elaborate synthesizer. Soon however, as it always happened, she was too submerged in her performance to focus on anything else than the lyrics on the screen in front of her. Her voice and their music echoed through the Forstback Mountains.

(Author's note: If you want to imagine the song: [Spellbound by Siouxsie And The Banshees](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjvvK-Rj0WI). For this particular performance, Salos uses his synth for the drums, Varric does an epic sax version of the guitar and Cassandra plays the bass guitar.)

From the deepest Fade   
Comes a beckoning voice  
It sends me spinning  
I have no choice 

I hear laughter   
Cracking through the Veil  
It sends me spinning  
I have no choice 

I see demons   
Ravaging this earth  
It sends me spinning  
This is my choice 

Following the Fade rifts   
'Till we seal the Breach  
It's in my reach  
Spellbound 

Following the Fade rifts   
'Till we seal the Breach  
It's in my reach  
Spellbound 

Spellbound   
Spellbound  
Spellbound

As Tamar sang the chorus into her hand, it flared up in a bright green light again and a beam of energy formed a connection to the rift. Her hand jerked upwards, pulled by the searing power she sensed pouring through her mark and into the rift until, with a final burst of light, it closed. A sudden silence filled the air. The abrupt peace over the scene felt as unreal, like the safety after waking from a nightmare.  
Cautiously, the brown elf approached her. “Are you alright?”  
Slightly shaken but her hair still standing firm, she ignored his question and asked: “What did you do?”  
“I did nothing,” he answered, “the credit is yours.”  
Tamar gave a high-pitched scoff and waved her hand before his face. “No need to point out the obvious. I know, I was the star. What I meant was: how did this close the rift?”  
The elf was visibly taken aback by her arrogance, but went on to explain anyway, as if by some sort of compulsion or involuntary reflex to being asked a question: “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky, also placed that magic mic upon your hand. I theorized it would give your singing the power to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.”  
And Cassandra added: “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself, if we get a band together.”  
“Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever,” said a sonorous, husky voice whose owner Tamar had trouble to spot at first, because the the head of dwarf who had spoken barely reached above her knees. Once she spotted him however, a pain in her eyes soon made her wish she hadn't. His hair was of such a foul bright blue colour, it made her retinas scream in agony.  
“Varric Tethras: sax player, songwriter, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He gave a wink to Cassandra, who just squinted at him, blinded by his radiating hair.  
Tamar looked very far down on him and said: “You know, your skills on that saxophone might just be adequate enough to support my gorgeous voice. I think I will allow you into the band.”  
“Ugh... yeah, well, glad you think so. You really made my lyrics shine. And Bianca and I go back a looong time”, he replied, stroking his instrument.  
Tamar, slightly bewildered by this, asked: “You named your saxophone?”  
“If there are to be introductions, my name is Salos,” interjected the over-toasted elf. “I have offered my skills as keyboard player and composer to this endeavour.”  
“Enough with the pleasantries already,” Cassandra briskly interrupted them, “we need to reach the forward camp. Leliana is waiting.”  
The sky underlined her urgent tone by giving another ominous wobble. So without further hesitation, they set off through the snow.

But Varric was having some trouble. At times he sunk in ass-deep and it took him some effort to keep up. Perhaps in an attempt to detract attention from this, he said: “You know, I've seen your kind in Kirkwall. A literal boatload of Qunari. More pleasant and cleaner than most folk in Kirkwall, actually. That is, until they tried to conquer the city and kill everyone. I heard the Viscount's severed head left quite the nasty stain. I'm guessing you don't subscribe to that whole Qun business. You're Tal-Vashoth, right?”  
“Oh, how very observant of you,” Tamar scoffed. “What gave me away, the missing collar or the scars where they stitched my mouth shut?”  
Varric grinned back at her, revealing a shiny gold tooth. “Well, what can I say, I have the eye of a writer, after all. It's an occupational hazard to always be spot-on with my first impression. Isn't that right, Chuckles?”  
Salos opened his mouth as if he wanted to reply, but apparently thought better of it, intently fixating his gaze on the path before them instead. They came upon another rift which was dealt with in quick and musical fashion. Being more familiar with the song, Tamar used the opportunity to strike some poses and spice up the performance. After all this sudden disaster and uncertainty she could finally tap into her old confidence again. With her as the singer, how could they not succeed? Therefore she was walking with a strut and her head held high, very high, through the doors at the entrance when finally they arrived at the camp.

She spotted a supply crate standing around and helped herself to a cup of latte which had “Charter” written on it. Slurping away on it she heard angry voices in the center of the camp. Leliana was arguing with a man wearing a Chantry uniform and dark nail polish.  
“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility!” he shouted.  
“I have caused trouble?”  
His head was slowly turning almost as red as his robes in the face of her cool confidence. “You, Cassandra, the Most Holy – haven't you all done enough already?” He noticed the band approaching and turned to them, his voice thick with disdain: “Ah here she is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order this criminal be sent to Val Royeaux to face execution!”  
This did not sit well with Cassandra. “Order me? You are barely even middle-management, a glorified paper-pusher!”  
“And you are a thug, a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”  
Leliana cut in between them: “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor. And now that she's gone it is upon us to act and decide on the way forward.” She turned her back on the man and spoke to Cassandra instead: “We have to reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Our forces can serve as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” Leliana pointed towards an especially inhospitable looking mass of rock and ice.  
“No,” said Cassandra, “it's too risky. It is better we charge through the valley, a careful advance with our soldiers will be quicker.”  
Roderick began to yell again: “Abandon this madness! Listen to me before even more lives are lost.”  
Tamar had enough of it all, of them all. Not only was their bickering beyond annoying, they were speaking as if she wasn't even there. “Enough!” she roared.  
All three of them fell silent at once and looked at her in surprise.  
“Clearly, you are all forgetting what's really important here.” She stared at each of them in turn. “Me! Without me, there is no chance that any of us, let alone the world, will even survive this. You leave me no choice: I demand to be carried! Your soldiers will bring me through the valley on their shoulders if you want to live.”

By the time the groaning men beneath her reached their destination, Tamar had nearly finished her latte and felt reasonably well rested. A tall man with luscious blonde hair and adorned in white faux fur was waiting on them.  
“This is Cullen”, Cassandra introduced him, “he is our lead-guitarist and also in command of the soldiers we scrambled together.”  
And indeed, Tamar spotted the instrument on his back, fully adorned with star-shaped stickers of various colours. Not bad.  
“I hope they're right about you, we lost a lot of people getting you here,” he said.  
“You'll lose a lot more unless I get to the Breach.”  
“I can't argue with that,” he replied with a bitter smile and turned back to Cassandra. “The way to the Temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet us there, she's on bouncing duty, making sure nothing creeps up on us from the flank.”  
Together they began the descent through the charred ruins of the Temple.

Some of the stone appeared to actually have melted under the heat of whatever magic caused this destruction. Worst of all was the smell of the charred corpses. With the alternative of tasting a slightly more acidic latte again, Tamar pinched her nose until they were past them. She could see the big rift in the centre of the rotunda now, it seemed to extend directly from the Breach in the sky above. From what she gathered Salos had determined that sealing this first of all rifts could even close the Breach itself. “And, more importantly, it's my only shot at surviving this shit anyway,” Tamar thought to herself. No use second-guessing if you have no other choice.  
“Andraste's tits!”  
All turned and looked to Varric at his outcry, then quickly looked away again, blinded by his hair.  
“What?” Cassandra asked, slightly alarmed.  
Varric pointed ahead towards the back of the ruins. “There. Red Lyrium., how in the world did that end up here? You know what this stuff is, Seeker.”  
“I see it, Varric. Hard to forget, after what happened in Kirkwall. Careful everyone, try not to touch it!”  
The dwarf seemed grimmer than he had done at any time fighting demons. “Yeah, seriously. Just being near that stuff can scramble your brains faster than a lifetime of snorting the regular kind.”  
But their musings on adverse drug effects got cut short.

Deep, sinister laughter resonated through the blackened stones. A bodiless voice sounded in their heads, as clear as if someone were talking just next to their ears.  
_“Bring forth the sacrifice.”_  
Everyone looked around to find the speaker, but all was still and dead.  
Cullen seemed especially worried. “I don't like this. What if this a demon's voice, trying to mess with our heads?”  
“No,” Salos said, “these are merely echoes of the past. The Fade remembers what happened here.”  
A second voice, a woman's this time, rang through the air:  
_“Someone, help me!”_  
Cassandra gasped and croaked: “That was Divine Justinia's voice.”  
Filled with dread the group moved on towards the centre of the Temple. As Tamar stepped closer to the giant rift, her mark was sending out sparks. In turn, the rift reacted to her presence as well, twisting and sizzling violently. Through it, she heard the voice of the Divine from the Fade again, calling for help. And answering her was – her _own_ voice:  
_“What's going on here?”_  
Cassandra stared at her. “That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But...”  
The rift interrupted her with an enormous cracking sound. From shadow and fog, a blurred vision formed before them. The Divine bound and helpless, called out to a shadow-version of Tamar: _“Run while you can! Warn them!”_ A third shadow was tallest of them all, but also the most obscured, as if the Fade didn't want to remember it. It spoke with the first voice: _“We have an intruder. Slay the Qunari.”_ A burst of green light, then the shadows vanished.  
Cassandra screamed: “You were there!” She ran to Tamar, grabbed her shoulders and actually managed to shake the Qunari woman, who was more than a head taller than her. “What happened? Who was the attacker?”  
“I- I don't remember.” Tamar wrestled herself free.  
“You know what, Seeker,” Varric commented, “your interrogation technique hasn't exactly improved. Most people don't like that whole violence thing you got going.” Cassandra let out a disgusted noise.  
“Enough,” Salos stepped between them, making a face like a stern cocoa bean, “we don't have time for this.”  
“He's right.” Cullen agreed, “I think we better focus on the task at hand.” He looked at Tamar. “Think you can do it?”  
She tilted back her head. The rift was easily four times the size of the others they had faced. She grinned. What did it matter? She was a star after all. “Just make sure none of you mess up my show.”  
And with that they drew their instruments.

It felt different this time. With the rich sound of Cullen's guitar play they sounded better than ever. Whipping his blonde mane with the tact he entered into the first crescendo. The rift responded immediately, fighting back by spawning an enormous demon of pride. Delighted at the sight of a worthy foe Tamar screamed: “Taarsidath-an halsaam!” and began bombarding the beast with a volley of arcane missiles. Everyone interrupted their playing to bring down the beast. Cullen and Cassandra lunged at it from opposite sides, causing it to turn from one to the other, confused as to whom it should attack. The mystery of how Varric transported his saxophone got solved as Tamar saw him transform it into a crossbow with just a few deft hand grips. Salos worked his own magic, creating protective barriers to shield the two warriors from the demon's assault. Suddenly, two shades passed through the rift and began encroaching on Tamar's position. None of the others seemed to care that their diva was in danger, but a hail of arrows from between the ruined walls above them made sure they didn't reach their target: Leliana was there, keeping the stage clean from those unwanted groupies. When the pride demon fell under their combined effort, the band picked up their instruments again and resumed the performance. Tamar poured her soul into her voice as if her life depended on it, because it actually did. She danced in ecstasy and sang with abandon into the magic mic. At her final “spellbound” the rift sealed in a flash of light. The energy travelled upwards, further and further on the cord that had been its connection to the Breach. As it made contact, the hole gave a dramatic wobble and a blinding flash of light obscured the sky. Down below though, for Tamar everything went dark. She collapsed.


End file.
